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Thinking about how the language of philosophy didn’t stick to me the way I imagine it would have a younger person with the same amount of education. I understood everything in the gut, a visceral type of knowledge. Pre-language. But, the part of my brain that should have incorporated the terminology was either damaged or already full. This
is, of course, a theory. But what it got me thinking about is whether children, if forced to read/be educated, are better off then those like me who were not, in the long run, academically. Of course, then I wondered how anyone could have forced Child-Me to do anything. Would they have had to outsmart me? Trick me into learning? Or would brutal honesty have been better?
I think we can agree that short of torture (I’d say threatening my life, but as I recall when I had a gun to my head I spat in the boy’s face who was holding it. So, short of torture) there is no way to coerce me to do anything I do not want to do. Thus, trickery is the only viable option. I use this method on myself often.Would I have been more self aware sooner had some adult in my life sat me down and talked to me like a person? Or if I had been forced somehow to read books?
I was thinking about having been a “feral child”. Obviously I am using hyperbole. I was very much on my own — as much as one can be while not being. I was emotionally and psychologically feral. I suppose I still am. I’m just house-trained now.
We fostered a kitten back when I lived in Somerville that had become feral. I named her Sociopatches (she was a calico). She’d wake me up by tearing my toes apart with both teeth and claw. It was genuinely horrible. She mutilated us all. Eventually, after a lot of blood and some clever DIY cat toys, she began to direct her insanity toward inanimate objects and smaller prey. Someone adopted her. I never met them. One day she was just gone. From time to time I wonder how things went for her. Did she mellow out in her old age? Did she get declawed? Feline Paxil? I like to imagine her curled up on the couch of some nice family with a beam of sunlight hitting her as she purrs having finally found whatever peace most cats seem to have. But, at the same time, I also like thinking of her running away and living in The Cat Underground rising to the top of the ranks as cat-Godfather or cat-Heisenberg. She dies with no regrets. She was good at it. She liked it. She was… alive.
The reason I found myself on the subject of incorporating language is because I am bad at selling things. What I mean to say is I am bad at selling my own things. Or, even getting to the point of selling things. What do I mean by selling?
Recently I created a video comprised of a beat I made in rebirth and some old Russian stock footage that I played around with in Sony Vegas. The product is a sort of minimalist … thing that I can’t really explain. But I like it and I want to do more of it. This made me think I need to study minimalism. What bothers me about this notion is that I already understand minimalism the way any tiny baby does (which is far better than the most educated adult), but it is a gut understanding. It is pre-language and — dear god I sound like Zizek — anyway, if I want to be able to sell (not sell as in exchange for money, but sell as in selling an idea to someone, myself, others…) then I need to learn the language.
My biggest fear is finding out I already have all the language there is and it’s just too feeble. I Need there to be more because as it stands language is failing me completely. Which is probably why I made the video to begin with. The whole point is expression.
This is why Van Gogh’s painting “Sorrowing old man” hits me a million times harder than the word “depression”. I’m not saying anything new, I realize. I’m not sure I’m saying anything at all. I lost my train of thought. Mind is going foggy. That clarity lasted longer than usual. Time to take my Feline-Paxil.
There was also something about me being born a Minimalist-Existentialist/Absurdist and that’s who I am naturally. But, like I said, my mind is fogging up. Maybe more later.